Potting Soil
by laurana-chan
Summary: Laura Hale's grave was small and simple. It wasn't the first time Derek had visited since she'd been buried in an actual graveyard, but it was the first time he'd brought flowers. K for single use of f-word, could be taken as pre-stereck


Laura Hale's grave was small and simple. It wasn't the first time Derek had visited since she'd been buried in an actual graveyard, but it was the first time he'd brought flowers. He squatted in front of the headstone, awkwardly propping a small bundle of daisies against it. He frowned and thought about how she had liked motorcycles and food more than flowers, and how because of this he didn't know what to bring to her grave. She at least would have enjoyed teasing him for worrying over flowers.

After only a few minutes Derek noticed the sound of shuffling footsteps arriving from behind, and recognized the scent as Stiles immediately. Stiles came to a halt behind Derek, just a little too close for comfort as expected, and Derek waited to hear some ridiculous morbid movie quote about death. Instead he felt a warm hand on the back of his neck and the earthy scent of potting soil invaded his senses. The grit of dirt ground into his skin as Stiles lightly squeezed his neck with the intention of friendly comfort… this of course only increased Derek's anticipation of insensitive or embarrassing wisecracks.

"I'm pretty sure this might offend you… and maybe possibly get me killed, but those are some saaaad looking daisies dude," Stiles _helpfully_ offered.

Derek growled out, "Your FACE is about to look sad…when I rip it off…With my CLAWS." _That little fucking shit. _Despite the instantaneous anger at being mocked, Derek reluctantly felt somewhat amused (and somewhat impressed) at Stiles' ability to say increasingly inappropriate things in increasingly inappropriate places the longer Derek knew him.

Stiles naturally looked totally unperturbed at Derek's mostly empty threat. "Chill, don't hulk out… or wolf out, or whatever! I'm just saying she'd probably like it a lot more if you planted something here instead. That's what I do!" Stiles insisted.

All the anger seeped out of Derek quickly as he made the connection between Stiles' presence in the cemetery and the soil on his hands. Of course Stiles wasn't here randomly with the sole intention of aggravating him. He was visiting his mother, apparently planting flowers at her grave. Derek imagined those warm dirt covered hands doing other things. Tugging his paralyzed body to the surface of a pool, patting Scott's back with confidence before a game, gently pulling a whiskey bottle from his father's hands late at night, gesturing wildly while trying to cheer up his friends. Of course Stiles was here giving Derek shit for his subpar attempt at expressing grief. Anything else would have been disingenuous. He snorted in amusement and considered Stiles in silence.

After several tense seconds Stiles wiped his hands on his jeans, smearing the dirt across his palms and knees while asking slowly, "Sooo. Did you need some help with that? 'Cause I've gotten pretty good with a spade these last couple years… Is that weird of me to offer? I mean I guess it might be too personal, but I didn't know what to say anyways…"

Stiles rambled and fidgeted nervously while Derek slowly stood from where he was crouched down. He realized Stiles probably thought he was pissed as his heart began beating more frantically. He turned to Stiles with a cocked an eyebrow and deadpanned, "I'm hoping you don't try to bond with all your friends like this."

Stiles beamed at Derek's use of the word 'friend' and replied, "Uh, probably a good thing I don't since you're mentioning it."

Derek nodded and started walking toward the entrance to the cemetery. He heard stiles following and decided that maybe he felt a little less broody. Besides, the kid totally had a point about Laura liking a living plant more. He glanced over his shoulder and said, "Well do they sell that kind of stuff at Wal-Mart or do we need to go somewhere else?"

Derek Hale may or may not have had a tiny smile on his face when Erica rudely pointed out the smudge of potting soil on his neck later that night, but he was definitely grinning when he thought about what Laura would think of him finally making friends again.


End file.
